Whirlwind (40 page)

“Sure, no problem. I’ll go down and wait for Mitch in the lobby,” she said, rising gracefully.

Despair slowly suffocated me as the door swung closed.

“Come here,” Jason said.

I didn’t make it into his arms before the first tears fell. All the emotions I’d been holding in for days came pouring out—I couldn’t keep them locked up any longer.

Jason didn’t say anything. He just held me, stroking my cheek or rubbing my back every time the sobs swelled.

My voice cracked when I spoke. “I don’t…want you…to go.”

He took my face in his hands and brushed his lips against my cheeks, kissing away my tears. “I wish I didn’t have to,” he breathed.

Sniffling, I kissed him and tasted the salty remnants of my crying. The fire in his kiss overwhelmed the agony for one glorious moment, but in the back of my mind I knew I was fooling myself. There would be pain, and the longer I waited, the worse it would be.

With a sniffle, I backed away.

“Is there anything else you need before you leave?” I asked. I tried not to look in his eyes, but I couldn’t help but notice glistening trails of tears on his cheeks.

He wiped his face and took an unsteady breath. “Actually there is. See that?” He pointed at the rolling table that had been pushed into the corner. A vaguely familiar FedEx envelope lay on top of it. “That’s for you.”

Reluctantly I slipped my fingers out of his so I could retrieve the mystery package. It was already open.

“Look inside.”

I sat on the bed next to him and followed his instructions, extracting a business-sized envelope. “What’s this?”

“Another opportunity for us.” He took my hand in his. “You’ve given me such a gift, sharing your life with me, and I’d like the chance to…well…return the favor.”

The donut churned in my stomach as I opened the smaller envelope. The blue and orange airplane on the corner told me nearly everything I needed to know, but I looked inside anyway. The computer cards I found weren’t like any airline tickets I’d ever seen; covered with so much fine print, they were impossible to decipher.

“These don’t have any dates on them,” I said.

“They’re not tickets, Melissa. They’re vouchers. And before you ask, they didn’t cost me a cent. I gave up my seat on an overbooked flight a couple months ago and received these as compensation. I’d already purchased my tickets for this summer, so I don’t have a use for them.”

“So you want me to…
what
exactly?” I asked, once I found my voice.

“I’m officially inviting you to come visit me. I’ll be in
Ann Arbor
until late August. You can come for a day, a week, or more—as long as you want.” He stared at me earnestly.

Ann Arbor…
Michigan
?
I looked at Jason. His face was calm, but he nervously stroked my palm, waiting for me to say something.

“Visit? As long as I want?” I repeated.

“Yes. My roommate is long gone, and I have tons of space. You can even have your own room.” Jason squeezed my hand. “I told you, I’m not disappearing from your life.”

Slowly his words began to register. What he was describing wasn’t a visit—it was a living arrangement. Though he veiled it well, Jason was asking me to come live with him—
all summer
.

My mouth fell open, and his eyes widened in response. But what could I say? I had to be fantasizing again. This couldn’t be happening. There’s no way this was real.

Me, fly to
Michigan
…
The thought of boarding a jet, suitcase in hand, reminded me why I couldn’t even consider it. Mom. She was expecting me to come home. This would be the last summer I’d have with her before moving out for good. She’d talked about girls’ nights out and wine tastings and mud baths for weeks. The piece of paper announcing her impending arrival suddenly became a lead weight in my pocket.
No, I can’t go.

But what if you did?
I could wake up next to him every morning, explore a new place through his eyes, experience his life even more fully than he’d seen mine. I loved him…

No, I can’t go.
What would I do in
Michigan
while Jason was at school—sit in his apartment? No job, no friends, nothing.
Nothing but Jason.

“Please, Melissa, tell me what you’re thinking,” he pleaded.

Don’t you know?

Strain showed in tiny lines above his perfect eyebrows. He deserved an answer. Why wouldn’t the words come out?

Jason tried again, his smooth, persuasive voice flowing over me like warm water. “You said yourself there wasn’t much in
California
for you this summer. I have a couple of friends in the journalism department at U of M who could hook you up—maybe you could publish something there. I’m sure the
Ann Arbor
library has a summer reading program too.”

It was clear he’d put a lot of thought into this plan. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to feel cornered.
What more could you want?
My thoughts reeled as I stared at the printed cards.

“It’s a very generous gift, Jason. Thank you. I honestly don’t know what to say.” Only one thing was clear: I couldn’t possibly make this decision right now.

“Melissa—” He started to argue, but then changed his mind. When he spoke, his tone matched his defiant squint. “You know I intend to keep seeing you. If this doesn’t work, I’ll find another way.” He set his jaw stubbornly.

“It’s just, well, there’s my mother…and my stuff,” I added lamely.

His face fell with my words, and his eyes moved away from mine. This tiny separation hit my heart like an arrow—the first shot heralding the coming onslaught.

“I understand, I really do. Your mom’s probably dying to see you, especially after this.” He flexed his fingers and inspected the bandage on the back of his hand covering the spot where his IV had been.

I touched his face with my fingers, softly tracing his features, nearly giving in and agreeing to go. But what if we got tired of each other? It’d only been
five days
, after all…five magical, unbelievable, terrifying days. Of course I wanted more of the magic, but what happened when my “visit” ended? We’d end up in the same place we were right now: Jason going his way and me going mine.

The arguments continued to build, adding headache to heartache.
But how can I deny him?

I caught the tear that leaked out of the corner of his eye. “I just need some time to think about this. It’s a huge surprise, Jason. Can you understand when I say this just adds to the surreal nature of our…relationship?”

He seemed to relax a bit, and a tiny smile flickered across his face. “Yes, I really do understand. But you know, surreal or not, I love you.”

“Yes, and I love you too,” I said with a resigned sigh.

The sparkle hadn’t returned to his eyes. Knowing I caused him such sadness broke my heart. But I
did
need time to think, to sort out how I’d become completely engulfed in this man in slightly more than a hundred hours. It couldn’t be healthy…but I wasn’t sure anything could possibly feel more right.

“You’re not going to come,” he whispered, finally picking up on the thoughts screaming through my head.

“I’m not saying no. I’m just surprised,” I repeated. “We’ve been together constantly since we met, and I’m having trouble remembering what I was like before. You’ve changed me so drastically—I’m still trying to figure out who I’ve become.” The next words burned my throat. “As much as I hate to say it, I need time…alone.”

He gazed out the window, unblinking. “How long?” he asked.

I hadn’t thought of that. How long
would
it take? If I chose not to go…no, when I gave up the fantasy that I
could
go…I’d have to tell him. I couldn’t lead him on, couldn’t give him false hope from two thousand miles away. He deserved better.

“Can I have a couple of days? I’ll call you on Saturday,” I said. Two days…then a phone call. I could do that, couldn’t I?

“Saturday night at seven my time, okay? That’s four your time,” he said sternly, taking the envelope from my hands. Grabbing a pen off the bedside table, he wrote his phone number across the front, followed by the agreed time.

Pulling me close, he snuck his hand behind me and slid the envelope into my back pocket. “Promise…” he whispered against my lips.

The feathery touch of his mouth on mine tempted me again. I could just visit…
and prolong this agony
. “Four o’clock my time on Saturday, I promise,” I breathed before he kissed me, sealing the pact.

Gentleness became desperation as I pressed myself to him, shaking from the flood of emotion. The sparks of lust ignited when he sought out my tongue with his, but anguish chilled my back where his hand rested. Hope blazed when he fisted my hair, holding me fiercely; grief pricked my fingers when I brushed a scratch on his neck. Blanketing everything was love, warm and soft, insulating us from the future—no matter what it held—for this one last timeless kiss.

Reality broke the spell with a harsh rap on the door. Without a word we separated as the discharge nurse and Jason’s parents filed into the room.

“I should go,” I said, fighting back tears. I’d already done my crying, and if I started again I’d never leave.

Jason started to protest, but I shook my head slightly, willing him to understand.

Biting his lip, he nodded reluctantly.

I thanked Lynn and Frank and turned to the door. Jason caught my hand.

“If I don’t hear from you by seven thirty, I
will
track you down,” he said, his red-rimmed eyes brimming.

I carefully kissed his bruised knuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll be on time. Have a safe trip.”

“You too,” he said and let go. His blue eyes followed me to the door, and I paused, memorizing his face.

The door closed silently behind me as I made my exit. The word I hated most had gone unspoken, but it hung over me like a shroud.

Goodbye.

Eighteen

The chirping of my phone broke me from the trance.

The first thing I noticed was my hands, tightly gripping the steering wheel. White knuckles and pins-and-needles tingling told me my fingers had long since gone to sleep. Painfully I stretched them and looked through the windshield at my apartment. When did I get home?

The phone’s electronic cry for attention repeated. The three beeps meant I’d received a text message. When I saw Mom’s name at the top, I inhaled with a hiss.

I’m boarding the plane.
See you soon. Love, Mom

I checked the time. Twelve twenty? That’d explain the sweat dripping down my face. I’d been sitting in my car for almost two hours—just sitting. At least that’s what I guessed I’d been doing.

My mind blank, I tried to recover my most recent memory. Something poked my back. Scratching the itch, I found a long envelope in my pocket. The vouchers.
Those
I remembered. My eyes still hurt from the crying I’d done this morning.

Rather than relive Jason’s farewell, I started from my present situation and tried to work backward. The drive home was a blank. Getting in the car? Nothing. Leaving the hospital? Nothing. The lobby? Finally I found a speck of memory.

I’d run into Mitch and Ann in the lobby on my way out of the hospital. Mitch had hugged me, I was pretty sure.

“Hey, Mel. How’re you doing?” he’d asked.

“Um, I’m not really sure,” I’d said. The memory became slightly clearer.

“Things will work out. You know that, right?”

I’d ignored him. “Thanks again for everything,” I think I’d responded.

“Say hi to your mom for me,” was the last thing he’d said.

Ann had hugged me too, but she hadn’t said anything.

I was pretty sure I thanked her, and then I must’ve gotten in my car and driven home. Everything after her hug was a blank, though.

I shook my head at the missing memories and got out of the car. It’d been a long time since I had a lapse like this—at least four years. What had the therapist said…that they’re caused by emotional shock?
No, not again.

Since my phone had woken me from my stupor, I set it to go off again at one thirty. Leaving Mom waiting at the airport would be a bad thing, especially if I’d had another episode. She wouldn’t be happy to learn they’d come back; it’d taken a year to get rid of them after Dad died.

I was about to shove the phone in my pocket when I noticed the voicemail icon on the screen next to the words “Eleven missed calls.” Could I bear to hear my mother’s worried messages?

I could just delete them—she’ll never know.

Guilt won out, and I lifted the phone to my ear. “You have four new messages,” the computerized voice said. At least Mom didn’t leave a message every time she’d called.

“Hi, honey. I’d kind of hoped to hear from you by now. Call me when you get the chance. Love you.”

The voice time-stamped the message Wednesday at eleven thirty a.m. I pressed delete.

The next message was unexpectedly happy. “Hey, Mel! Chase decided he didn’t want to wait to go ring shopping, so we’re heading back down south. I’ll call you this weekend and let you know how it went.”

Linda’s message ended with a giggle. At least she wasn’t waiting by the phone.

Mom’s next message was at two minutes past three. “Melissa, where are you? I tried calling your apartment, the house, even the number you used before, and I got no answer. I’m getting worried. Please call me.” She spoke fast, her voice higher than usual.

I deleted this message too, wishing I’d thought to call her. The next message would be even worse, but I was surprised to hear a man’s voice this time.

“Hello, Ms. Williams, it’s Detective Clark. I just spoke with the Santa Lucia police. I’m sorry you and Mr. McAlister had to face Mr. Hancock. I’ll see what I can do to persuade the authorities here to close the case as quickly as possible. Considering what happened, I expect the investigation into Mr. Hancock’s death will be very short. It’s clearly a case of self-defense. Call me any time if you have questions or would just like to talk. Please give my wishes for a speedy recovery to Mr. McAlister.”

His voice was comforting, but it only made me miss my father, and Jason, even more. I waited for Mom’s next message to start, but heard “End of new messages” instead.

She must’ve given up leaving voicemails and just kept calling. I could imagine how worried she’d been…and then to find out what happened from Mitch?

As much as I’d like to think I was worried about Jason yesterday, really all I’d thought about was myself. I closed the phone and slipped it in my pocket. There was no point in calling now, she was on a plane.
I hope she’ll forgive me.

I dragged my guilty ass into the apartment and set the envelope on the kitchen counter, face down. I fingered the flap for a moment, imagining what Jason was doing. He should be nearly halfway home by now, riding in the back seat of his parents’ minivan. Was he asleep? In pain? Thinking about me?

He’s gone! It doesn’t matter.
Forcing my thoughts back to my mother, I surveyed what I had left to do. I could at least be packed when she arrived. The carnations Jason gave me were still flourishing, filling the kitchen with their scent. As I debated the wisdom of taking them home with me, I noticed a new envelope, with my name on the front, propped against the vase. My hand trembled as I picked it up. I recognized the handwriting instantly. Inside were two crisp one hundred dollar bills and a note.

My love,

I promised I’d take care of the inconvenience caused by your extended stay in
L.A.
I believe this covers the cost of not turning your key in on time.

Hoping to see you soon,

Jason

His generosity—and stubbornness—were endless. I traced the words, written in his swooping hand, with my finger.
He writes entirely too neatly to be a doctor
. I leaned down to smell the flowers, trying to ignore the memories the word
doctor
conjured.

For the next hour I forced myself to focus on one task: packing up my few dishes. This was part of my old life, the time before Jason, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I was wrong.

Something that should’ve been simple turned into an excruciating test of willpower. The glass we’d shared for milk, the pan I’d used to cook us dinner, the cabinet filled with food he’d never eat—reminders of Jason were everywhere.

We only ate one real meal here
.
There’s no reason to be so sentimental.
But the emptiness seeped deeper into my soul with each dish I packed.

My phone alarm finally went off, giving me a reprieve from the past.

Located a few miles south of my apartment, the Santa Lucia Regional Airport boasted two airlines and four gates. While sitting in the car, I watched Mom’s tiny passenger jet land and then walked across the street to the terminal, easily beating her there. I saw her walk in through the glass doors beyond the security checkpoint, her short, brown waves ruffling in the breeze.

“Melissa, thank God!” she called, hugging me tightly. “I was so worried about you!” Faint crow’s feet framed her gray eyes when she smiled.

Many people had commented that we looked alike, but I’d never been able to see it. I did recognize the mixture of love and relief in her expression, though.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I should’ve called earlier. I wasn’t paying attention to the time,” I said, lifting her computer bag off her shoulder.

She refused to let me pull her carry-on. “Mitch explained why you couldn’t call. You look tired. How’s your friend? Jason, isn’t it?”

Her dark eyes told me she hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Her automatic forgiveness added to my guilt, and her well-meaning question made me cringe. Jason was so much more than a friend.
Was
being the key word.

“He’s going to be okay. His parents are driving him home right now. He flies back to
Michigan
tomorrow.” The invisible knife in my chest dug a little deeper.

“
Michigan
? I thought Mitch’s family lived in
California
.”

Crap.
Mom didn’t know the whole story. “They do. But Jason goes to school out of state.” I popped the trunk, then threw myself behind the wheel while she stowed her suitcase.

The radio was blaring when she got in the car. “When are you going to see him again?” she asked, after turning down the music.

I squeezed the steering wheel so tightly it made a cracking noise. “I don’t know.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mom frown. She didn’t say anything else until I turned into my apartment complex.

“Is he coming back to
California
?” she finally asked.

“Maybe in August,” I said, flexing my jaw.

“You won’t see him before then?”

Did Jason talk to her too?

“That depends,” I replied, pulling the car into my parking spot. I jumped out and had the front door unlocked before she’d unbuckled.

Mom caught up with me in the kitchen. “Depends on what?”

With a heavy sigh, I handed her the vouchers. “On this.”

She looked at the envelope, then back at me. I returned to my packing, leaving her wondering. Without thinking, I threw the last few pieces of
plasticware
in the box and sealed it shut.

Discussing Jason’s…proposal…wasn’t high on my to-do list, but apparently Mom had other ideas.

“These are airline vouchers—a lot of them. Where did you get them?” She counted the cards in the envelope. I hadn’t bothered to understand exactly how many there were or how they worked.

“Jason gave them to me. He wants me to come to
Ann Arbor
and visit him.” I stalked past her to retrieve the other empty box from the family room.

“How long does he want you to stay?” she called, leaning around the corner to watch me.

“You don’t want to know,” I muttered. Mom put her hand up and caught me on the way back into the kitchen. I couldn’t look at her. “He said it’s up to me, but he’d like me to come for the whole summer.”

Her hand dropped. “I see.”

I hazarded a glance at her. She searched my expression, but she wouldn’t find answers I didn’t have.

I couldn’t look at her anymore, seeing the disappointment in her face. “I’m going to pack the bedroom. Can you finish up the last things in here?”

She nodded, and I dashed up the stairs.

Most of my clothes were already packed, and I quickly threw the sheets into my pop-up hamper. Rolling up the sleeping bag was a new form of torture after what had transpired on it, but I did, and pushed it into the top of the hamper. The last piece of clothing to pack was the black dress, and I carefully folded it and zipped the suitcase shut. Sniffling, I hauled my bags down to the car.

The only things left in the bedroom were my pillows, the lamp, and my defunct alarm clock. When I returned for these last items, I couldn’t stop myself from picking up Jason’s pillow and burying my face in it. His scent still lingered on the pillowcase, and my injured heart started its assault.
You could be in
Ann Arbor
tomorrow.